


Bound

by Wrongest_Under_Heaven



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-01-25 07:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21352381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrongest_Under_Heaven/pseuds/Wrongest_Under_Heaven
Summary: In the wake of the events at Enies Lobby and Impel Down, Kalifa and Domino cross paths only to find a spark that neither of them realized was there before.
Relationships: Domino/Kalifa (One Piece)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Fog

Trapped in fog.

That’s what it felt like. Stuck in place, no way of telling how she got there. No way of knowing how she’d get out. No sense of direction, and no sense of… herself.

_What am I doing exactly? _she wondered. Smoke all around her. Smoke in her mind. Clouds of someone else’s making. _Can’t seem to find the sun any more._

Kalifa sat alone at a table in the bar. Worn out old tavern, a real dive. The tables were weathered and looked like they hadn’t know the touch of a cleaning rag since… ever. Most of the chairs were cracked and splintered – Kalifa wasn’t sure if they had been battered from being used in bar brawls, or had been cobbled together from the remains of furniture broken during said brawls.

She laughed darkly to herself. _What’s the difference? Made then broken or made from broken pieces to begin with? You’re still broken. _

Trapped in fog.

She wasn’t looking much better. Her hair was up in a haphazard bun, errant coils of blonde dangling on either side of her face. She was in a thick black jacket, something thick to cover against the cold that she’d grabbed on that one island, maybe eight years ago? It felt like another lifetime now. One leg was crossed over the other, her long gray pants tapering out around the ankles. She always thought these were too long, meant to have them tailored – but who had the time? _I guess I do, _she chuckled to herself, reflecting on the current state of her employment and idly turning the heel of her shoe against the floorboard.

She couldn’t remember what this place was even called – Last Drop? Last Stop? – didn’t particularly matter. The sign on the door meant less than the label on the bottle at this point. She raised a square-bottomed glass to her lips and tried to breathe in the aroma. It was hard to enjoy from all the smoke in here. The smell of all the second hand fog in here, the crummy cigarettes and poorly rolled cigars – it bothered her. The whole enterprise of smoking, really. Too much ash. Too much fire. It had a grungy taste she never could abide. Most Navy personnel smoked because it was one of the few ways to let off steam, and one of the few ways to get a mandated break from duty by Navy regs. Plenty of sailors started the habit for that alone. In her time at CP9 it always repulsed her, being around that scent. One captain she’d had the misfortune of meeting – Smoker, aptly named – was so unbearable she could still smell him when she conjured the memory. Disgusting. How that darling second in command of his managed to put up with it was beyond Kalifa’s comprehension.

_Cipher Pol 9. Water 7. Enies Lobby. _

_The Straw. Hat. Pirates._

She knocked back the drink. A different fire in her chest. Wash out the memory, burn out the feeling.

Defeat.

Kalifa slammed the glass down on the tabletop.

_Defeat._

They had a job and they failed. _If those pirates hadn’t interfered we- or if Lucci had taken the threat more seriously th-_

She stopped making excuses. Poured another glass. Fill. Raise. Empty. Slam. She _tsk_ed her tongue against the back of her teeth, holding the empty glass by the rim with the barest tips of her fingers. _Why tell myself a comforting lie? We lost. _

Glass was clear, the same as her bubbles. You could hold it in front of something ugly but it could not hide anything. If there was grime, it would show. All you can do is try to wash it away.

“Careful, these tables can’t stand up to much abuse,” came a voice over her shoulder.

Kalifa was startled, reflexively shifting to defend herself like her years of training had taught her to do. She told herself that anyone who could sneak up on her was a trained assassin, but in her gut she knew she’d been careless and in drowning her sorrows had let her guard down.

The former CP9 agent twisted in her chair, moving to stand up and kick in one fluid motion but a hand clasped on her shoulder before she had risen far from her seat.

A slender hand, with a firm grip that clenched without hurting her. It gently pressed down on Kalifa’s shoulder until she sat again.

“Easy there, no need for that,” the voice said.

The hand’s owner let go and walked around to the other side of the table.

She was dressed in a crisp Navy uniform, a long dark tie snaking down behind her tan coat with shining gold buttons. Long gloves the color of blushing cheeks covered her hands almost to the elbow, and her knee-high boots matched. Dark aviators masked her eyes – a pity, Kalifa thought – and to further than pity the woman’s blonde hair draped over one eye like a waterfall shrouding a hidden cave. An officer’s cap was tucked in the crook of her arm, and her pursed lips were the color of whispered confessions.

“Domino,” Kalifa managed.

“So you remember me, Kalifa? I’m flattered,” Domino replied, putting her hands on the back of the chair and _rap-rap-rapp_ing them in lockstep order like a drill instructor. “I’d recognize you anywhere, but I wasn’t sure if you’d recall that time we met before.”

_How could I forget? _she thought. “I’m good with faces,” she half-lied.

“I bet you are.” There was a pause, full of tension. “I’m surprised to see you in a place like this,” Domino said.

Kalifa did not like the pity in her voice. “What, you think just because I wo-“ she caught herself, “-_used_ to work with big shots I can’t handle myself? I’ve been kicked out of my fair share of dives.”

Domino’s eyebrow perked high enough that Kalifa could see it peak over her aviators. “I’m sure you’ve got a story to two to tell.”

“A lady never tells.”

Domino laughed. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“My team completely botched a multi-year deep cover mission, got defeated at a high security facility, and let a wanted pirate crew escape unharmed. I think we both know the answer to why I’m here.”

Domino’s expression shifted. “I do. I heard _that _story. Straw Hats, huh?”

“Yep. Straw Hats. Thanks for reminding me by the way,” Kalifa ran a finger around the lip of her glass, “I had been trying to forget.”

“Sorry to dredge that up,” Domino apologized and looked around the bar. “This is the kind of place you go to forget things.”

“Are you going to keep reminding me? Or are you going to buy a drink for a girl who’s down on her luck?”

A grin curled on Domino’s lips. She reached up and brushed her hair from her face; Kalifa saw her reflection in both of Domino’s shades.

“I’m not going to twist the knife. But I’ll tell you this much – I had a run in with the Straw Hat pirates too, and it did not go the way the brass wanted it to.”

“At least you’ve got a job.”

“That’s true. I still have a job. Not a bad post either, if I might add.” She pushed the chair until it was back under the table and pulled her hands away. “If you’re in the market for steady work again, I can show you the outfit I’m with now. Impel Down has changed in the wake of… what happened.” She paused then tapped the chair twice. “I won’t take any more of your time,” she said then walked around the side of the table. As she moved parallel, she spoke in a low voice when she came alongside Kalifa, “I might be able to find you something to do out there, if you want.” Her heels sounded _clack tack clack _as she strutted away. Kalifa wanted to turn and watch her go, but she restrained herself – until she heard Domino’s voice again.

“And hey,” the officer called to the former CP9 agent. The latter turned to see the former at the doorway, stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “If you come by, I might tell you why I’ve been kicked out of places like this.” She grinned mischievously and placed her hat back on her head. “Let’s go boys, the ship won’t wait for us all day…” she said to the two marines posted outside the tavern before she headed out into the wider world and left the little bar behind.

Kalifa sat quietly for a long time. Alone except for her thoughts. The encounter lingered in her mind. The pressure of Domino’s grip, the calm assurance of her voice, the sound of her boots as she walked away…

“Hey, barkeep? Another round.”

One last night in the fog couldn’t hurt.


	2. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kalifa eagerly awaits Domino's summons.

Two months passed.

The wait was killing her. Kalifa tried to sit still, but she could hardly bear it. The anxious tapping of her shoe against the floor had become so monotonous she had to stand up. She paced the length of the small room once, twice, a half dozen times.   
  
_How long do I have to wait?_

_How long until I hear something?_

Kalifa crossed her arms and stared at the den den mushi on the counter.

The transponder snail dozed peacefully. A tiny snot bubble grew from its nose as it slumbered away, as if it never expected to receive a call, as if it had never rung once in its life.

Kalifa clenched her arms. Her fingers dug into her skin.

_When is she going to call me? _she fumed.

She almost asked herself another question but she bit her tongue and tossed the thought aside.

The wait was beginning to mess with her. That moment in the bar began to seem less like the fated encounter she had thought it was and more of a fluke. Kalifa’s nerves took their toll, and she questioned the specifics of that night, picking at her own memory like a scab on an old wound. Domino _had _come up to her and talked about working at Impel Down. Definitely. Well, maybe not _definitely_. Maybe it was more implied than actually discussed. Was it? They had talked about it, she was sure of it. Then again she’d already had a few drinks by the time Domino showed up. Had she misread the entire situation altogether? Maybe Domino never meant for her to take it so literally. No, she came _right up _to her and started talking. Right? Right. There had to be something there, something that pulled her to come talk to Kalifa.

Maybe it was pity. No, not _pity_. Anything but that. Kalifa felt pathetic. The doubts were piling up. Maybe Domino had no come over to talk to her because of the reason Kalifa originally thought. At the time she thought that Domino wanted to tap her for recruitment purposes – too good a talent to be left rotting in a bar. Now she began to think it was motivated out of a sense of charity. _Oh no_. Did Kalifa have it all wrong? Had Domino just seen a pitiful woman in a bar and thrown her a bone out of remorse? _God, look at her _she must have thought, _I hope I never end up that way._

Kalifa’s fingers dug deeper into her arms. She almost drew blood.

Kalifa was outside. She did not remember when she put on her coat and stepped out, only that she looked up and was suddenly in a part of town she did not recognize. How long had she been walking for? Her lungs ached from the cold air. Kalifa could tell she had been walking for a long time, but her head still was not clear. She could not shake the doubts. The city streets offered pathways but no direction, avenues without end.

She bit her lip.

Kalifa was back in her room again. An unopened bottle sat on the counter. She rattled the loose change in her pocket from the purchase and locked eyes with the grinning shark mascot on the label. _I told myself I would dry out, be ready for the call _she mused. _I want out of the spiral. I want out of the waiting. _Her eyes flitted back and forth between the transponder snail and the bottle of liquor.

_How long can I wait? I can barely stand it_. She was no longer sure which she was referring to.

That night became hazier. Domino had given her the number to call… hadn’t she? It had taken Kalifa days to work up the courage to make the call in the first place, and when Domino had no answered right away she hung up rather than leave a message. This happened three times – no, four times – before she could bear to open that part of herself. Kalifa told herself that if Domino was not answering then it was purposeful, she was choosing not to speak to her and had regretted giving out her number. But she was busy, right? She said she was part of a new operation with the Navy. Kalifa could not expect Domino to be sitting by the phone waiting for her call. _Not the same way I’m doing with her now, _she laughed darkly. It was nerve-wracking, she almost decided not to go through with it.

But then she thought about that time at the bar: Domino’s confidence, her commanding presence, the sound of her leather gloves constricting against the wooden chair, the way the _click clack click clack _of those heels echoed in her mind as she left…

Kalifa had finally worked up the courage to leave a message. She could no longer remember what she said. She had tried to be professional – but there was no telling if she had been successful. What if Domino had received the message and could tell right away how desperate Kalifa was? _Did she hear it in my voice? _

Kalifa gritted her teeth at her own self-doubt. She had been so _confident _once. The Kalifa that was part of Cipher Pol 9, the Kalifa that was a skilled professional, the Kalifa that could complete a deep cover mission without remorse… where was she now? Rob Lucci and the other CP9 members were not good people – not by a long shot. But they had all been professionals. They had all trusted each other implicitly. They were killers – without remorse, without hesitation, without fail. She had never doubted herself a day in her life. Then those Straw Hats came.

_Monkey D Luffy. _That little stretchy bastard and his ragtag band of two-bit pirates. Kalifa balled her hands into fists at the thought of it. It made her cheeks hot just thinking about how they’d ruined everything, sent her life into turmoil, made her… _this_. Her battle against Nami roared back into her memories – a fresh wave of heat washed over her. It was anger mixed with-

_How pathetic is this? How far have I fallen? _Kalifa cursed herself and looked towards the bottle. _Who am I kidding? _It was time to sink back to the bottom of th-

_~POP~POP~_

The transponder snail’s eyes popped open. It smacked its tiny lips and cleared its throat. “Brzzz brzzz, brzzz brzzz,” it began to say, a groggy ringing that originated deep in its throat.

Kalifa did not respond at first. She had been lost in her waiting for so long she had forgotten how to do anything except brood.

“Brzzz brzzz brzzz brzzz.”

Kalifa shook her head and dashed across the room. She reached out towards the buzzing transponder snail but her hand hesitated inches from it.

“Brzzz brzzz brzzz brzzz.”

She was standing on a precipice. Kalifa had been waiting for _that _call and now she wondered if it was just _a _call.

“Brzzz brzzz brzzz brzzz.”

Kalifa gripped the side of her pants with her other hand. Blood and resolve pumped through her veins. She grabbed the den den mushi.

“Hello?”

“Former agent Kalifa?” a gruff voice asked. The phrasing stung. The fact that it was not Domino’s voice stung worse.

“Yes.”

“This is Lieutenant Matagorn, calling on behalf of Lieutenant Commander Domino’s office.”

She gulped, relief washing over her. “Yes.”

There was no emotion in Matagorn’s voice, just hard facts and gravelly tones. “The Lieutenant Commander requests your presence as soon as possible to discuss potential re-assignment.”

“Of course, I accept.”

“What is your current location?”

“Temeter Island.”

“Noted. The _Brigandine _will be en route shortly for retrieval. Expect its arrival within the next seventy-two hours. The _Brigandine’s _captain will contact you on this number upon arrival.”

“Thank you.”

“The Lieutenant Commander looks forward to your meeting. Good day,” Matagorn said curtly and ended the call.

Kalifa stood stock still. A new bubbling rush of emotions swirled inside of her. A ship was on its way to get her even as she stood there.

She placed the bottle in the trash. A different sort of waiting had begun.


	3. Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kalifa travels to Impel Down and thinks about what might be in store for her.

Kalifa hated navy ships. Big blundering things. It did not matter what they called them – frigates, cruisers, battleships, patrol boats – they were ponderous and droll.

She stood on the deck of the… she could not even recall the name of it. What was it again? She leaned over the edge of the vessel to see what it was called. Its hull read _Dagenhorne _in blocky font. Fine.

She stood on the deck of the _Dagenhorne _in a long matte black coat with glossy black buttons running down the front in two rows. The collar was high, ringing her face to keep out a portion of the cold ocean wind. Her hands were in the large front pockets. She had been clenching them into tightly balled fists without realizing it and as soon as she noticed she unclenched them. The chill air made the sweat on her hands feel clammy. The _Dagenhorne _had arrived to pick her up shortly after the transponder snail call. The captain and crew were gruff but compliant types – they did not bother her, nor she them. She was just an errand for them at any rate. Vessels like the _Dagenhorne _patrolled the waters on the same routes over and over, long circuitous tracks that served as delivery vessels and reminders of the World Government’s power. Nothing like the arrival of a few dozen large cannons in port to keep The Powers That Be in the forefront of the populace’s mind. It simply would not do for those disparate islands to ever forget who they owed their fealty to.

Kalifa let her eyes fall across the ocean. These bulky navy vessels had no art to them. Sailing the seas as they did – no, that was too generous. They did not sail any more than a bull danced. They crashed through the waves, barreled across the water’s surface, hoarded the wind in hungry sails. Everything was force without grace. Power for its own sake.

She thought about bubbles. How they glided through the air and gently rolled across the surface of water. They moved with – not against – the natural flow. Adapting to the tempo of the harsh current.

The exact opposite of these cumbersome beasts the navy used.

That was the World Government though. Why do things the best way when you can simply bulldoze everything in your path? Her time in Cipher Pol 9 had been tolerable because she got to use her subtlety; there she had been allowed to solve problems creatively. How long had she played at being Iceberg’s second, only to have been playing him all along? What a rare delight that had been.

She smiled to herself. Despite all that had happened, she tried to hang on to those accomplishments.

Her smile flatted out to a thin line of determination. Kalifa was not going to let all her accomplishments be past tense.

_Domino._

Her name surfaced again in the sea of Kalifa’s mind. A weak tremor went through one knee and she had to straighten herself back up, the first time she had faltered the entire journey. It was not because of the waves.

Kalifa could see the distant structure of Impel Down as they approached it. She bit the edge of her lip and wondered, _What exactly is Domino up to? What is her role now, after the breakout and everything that happened? How did she manage to keep her position – perhaps even get a promotion – where I got canned?_

She wondered if it was the importance of the persons involved that played a hand in it. Nico Robin _had _been a high value target for the World Government, and letting her get away was a huge failure on CP9’s part. In retrospect it was a wonder that they had not had her killed instead.

_Wait, was that was this was about? A lure to bring her back in to be punished?_

Fear caught in Kalifa’s throat and her eyes turned as big as saucer plates. For a moment she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Her fists clenched again.

_No. No that did not seem right._

She relaxed once again, slowly uncoiling her tense muscles. The World Government was not subtle – they would not go to all this trouble to lure her back only to punish her later. If they had wanted her dead they would not have sent a transponder call, they would have sent a buster call and been done with it.

Kalifa probably did not even rate a buster call. Another dark laugh just for herself.

That still did not explain why Domino was still able to do what she was doing. The breakout at Impel Down had been a disaster of historic proportions. Criminals like Portgas D Ace and former warlord Jinbei had escaped; not to mention the rise in prominence of Monkey D Luffy and Buggy the clown. All of that fed directly into the battle at Marineford, the aftereffects of which were still being felt across the world. Domino had been part of the security detail at Impel Down at the time. Kalifa wondered why they kept her on instead of putting her in front of a firing squad like so many others had been.

Was it because she was not important enough? Maybe she was _just _low enough on the pecking order to not get axed for negligence, but cunning enough to use that as a chance to jump to new opportunities for advancement. That seemed to fit her – she was a smart woman, and capable.

Kalifa pictured her again like that day at the tavern months before. Even the memory of her commanding presence straightened Kalifa’s posture, while the thought of her authoritative tone made the collar of her jacket warm like a bubbling pot. She allowed herself to daydream. To imagine Domino saying the words she wanted her to say.

_“I need a strong second. I want you her, by my side. With me. I won’t take no for an answer.”_

Her voice would be strong but maybe too strong, like she was trying to hide something herself. She imagined walking the corridors of Impel Down with Domino in command, berating prisoners but using a soft-yet-firm tone when speaking with her. Kalifa imagined what her eyes might look like behind those dark shades. Maybe Domino would let her guard down behind closed doors, confide in her. More than confide.

She remembered what working for Rob Lucci had been like. He was demanding but in a cold and distant way. He had clear-cut expectations and expected nothing less than flawless execution from his subordinates. They had given him that every time… except at Enies Lobby, of course. When you failed Rob Lucci it was pure ice – he let the crushing silence tell you what you did wrong. It was the utmost professional distance, like a sniper in that regard. Purely clinical.

She wondered what would happen if she failed Domino. She let herself imagine the scene, the harsh words Domino would use. But she would speak to her – she’d have to. Step in close and give her a dressing down. Domino would tell her to shape up because she’d need her at her best. Kalifa would try to listen to the words, stare at her reflection in Domino’s dark shades. Not pay attention to the smell of her ruby red lipstick. Not hear the crinkle of her leather gloves as they balled into fists. Remember not to hold her breath if she stepped closer, not to make a noise if Domino stood that close…

Kalifa allowed herself this self-indulgence. She had so little to enjoy since Enies Lobby. Only the fog and the failure and the regret and the isolation. She gave herself permission to dream again. Permission to desire a future that went past the present moment.

“All crew, to your stations!” a gruff voice shouted. “Making final approach to Impel Down!”

The sound broke her from her little reverie. Impel Down had gotten much closer in the time she had spaced out on the _Dagenhorne_. She blinked too many times and swallowed the lump in her throat. _Perhaps I let myself get a bit carried away with the daydreaming… _she thought absentmindedly before heading back below decks to prepare her things.

Impel Down awaited.


End file.
